


remember this feeling

by alotofthingsdifferent



Series: think of all the doors we'll open [5]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Adoption, M/M, Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3535880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofthingsdifferent/pseuds/alotofthingsdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s nothing you’re doing,” Janice keeps telling them. “Women who are putting their babies up for adoption — it’s a very difficult thing for many of them, there’s a lot of second-guessing and sometimes it takes them until the final hour to make a decision.” It doesn’t soften the blow. It never softens the blow.</p><p>or: brent and jonny adopt a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	remember this feeling

**Author's Note:**

> part 3 in the 'think of all the doors we'll open' series. 
> 
> this is a combination of [tumblr](http://alotofthingsdifferent.tumblr.com) prompts. working on putting everything in this 'verse together.
> 
> (big thanks to all my cheerleaders on this series -- you know who you are! <3 )

“Brent?” Jonny calls as he comes into the kitchen, tossing his keys on the counter. His car is in the garage, so Jonny knows he’s home, but the TV is black and Brent’s not in the office off the living room. He heads upstairs, and when he doesn’t find Brent in their bedroom, he starts to worry. “Babe? You up here?”

There’s no response as he walks down the hall, but out of the corner of his eye he notices that the door to one of the guest bedrooms is half closed. He pushes it open and finds Brent sitting on the floor in the middle of the mostly-empty room, back to the door, with his phone between his legs. His shoulders are slumped, and he doesn’t look up.

“Hey,” Jonny says softly, crouching down next to him. His hand goes automatically to the back of Brent’s neck, squeezing gently. “You ok?” Brent sniffles and wipes the back of his hand over his eyes, and Jonny’s heart stops. “What’s going on?”

“The agency called,” Brent says, and he won’t look at Jonny. “It’s —” he lets out a shaky breath, and his voice quivers as he continues. “It’s another no.”

It’s hits Jonny with a sudden force why Brent’s sitting here on the floor, in this room of all rooms. In the room they’d chosen for the baby that they’d hoped to bring home soon. It’s been months of applying, of interviewing, of getting turned down.

“It’s nothing you’re doing,” Janice keeps telling them. “Women who are putting their babies up for adoption — it’s a very difficult thing for many of them, there’s a lot of second-guessing and sometimes it takes them until the final hour to make a decision.” It doesn’t soften the blow. It never softens the blow.

He gets on his knees in front of Brent, pulls him so they’re chest to chest, Brent’s face buried in his neck. He can feel the wetness there, knows Brent is crying, and it makes his own eyes burn. “Hey,” he murmurs, one hand rubbing soothing circles on Brent’s back. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Brent says, his fingers digging into Jonny’s back as he holds on tight.

“And it sucks. I know it sucks. But it’s gonna happen, babe.” When Brent makes an indignant noise, Jonny pulls back so they’re eye-to-eye. “It’s going. To happen. And when it does, none of this will matter,” he says. “None of the no’s will make one bit of fucking difference because she’ll be ours — we’ll finally have what we’ve been waiting for.”

Brent sniffles again, the hint of smile on his lips. “She?”

“Yeah,” Jonny whispers, leaning in to press their foreheads together. “Just a feeling.”

\--

Jonny’s just getting off of a conference call with the Bowmans when Brent bounds into his office, closing the door behind him.

“Hey, what’s —” but before Jonny can get anything out, Brent’s crowding into his space, holding his phone out and waving it front of Jonny’s face.

”Look,” he says, and his voice is soft and fond. Jonny’s also pretty sure his eyes are wet, but he can’t tell from this angle.

He pulls the phone from Brent’s hands (he’s holding it too close to Jonny’s face for him to be able to see anything) and all the air leaves his chest. “Is that —”

“Yeah,” Brent says, and he’s leaning in so close that Jonny can feel his breath on his cheek.

“Oh my god,” Jonny whispers, and Brent’s got him by the arm now, hauling him up out of his chair so he can wrap him in a tight hug. Jonny clings to him, his hands fisted in the back of Brent’s shirt and his face buried in his neck. His own eyes are wet now — scratch that, he’s full-on crying, sniffling against Brent’s shoulder. 

He’s only ever been this overcome with emotion one time in his life — the day he married Brent in front of the smallest crowd they could manage given Brent’s status in the community, tears streaming down his face as he promised to love, honor, and cherish for all the days of his life. 

“She’s really ours?” Jonny asks, voice cracking.

“Yeah,” Brent replies, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “She really is.”

“She’s perfect,” Jonny whispers, looking at the picture again. She’s bundled in pink, sleeping soundly, her sweet lips puckered into a newborn pout. He traces the shape of her face with his fingers and swallows around the lump in his throat. “When…”

“She was born this morning,” Brent says softly, “7 pounds, 2 ounces. Katie already signed the papers.”

“So she’s really ours,” Jonny repeats, leaning into Brent, who snakes an arm around Jonny’s waist and pulls him close.

“You wanna go meet her?” he asks, his forehead resting against Jonny’s.

“Now?” Jonny asks, eyes wide, and Brent laughs softly, kissing Jonny’s lips.

“We can stop home first if you want,” Brent says, “Grab the outfits we bought.” Jonny looks at the picture again, imagining her in the lavender and white sleeper they’d bought to bring her home in. He tears up again and Brent kisses his cheek.

“We’ve waited so long,” Jonny says, eyes meeting Brent’s. His throat tightens again when Brent smiles at him. He laces their fingers together and leans in to kiss Brent softly. “Let’s go meet our daughter.”


End file.
